My Kobayashi Maru
by WildSeed
Summary: What if a particular young and out-of-reach cadet inspired what is known as the no-win scenario.  Spock creates the ultimate character test, and it is assumed he never took it.  Nyota Uhura knows better.
1. Chapter 1

Spock was fully aware as a scientist and as a Vulcan that circumstances that led him to Christine Chapel's rooms were not beyond the scope of probability. He was half-human, after all, subject to the weaknesses of his human bloodline. His adherence to logic was born from a decision that he had made in his youth -however earnestly he wished it were not so- out of his need for acceptance. A human quality, of which influenced a minute number of actions he ultimately took, most times very well calculated.

"You half breed son-of-bitch. I hope you fry in Vulcan hell…!"

Glass shattered behind the door just seconds where his head used to be before he closed it, followed by another screeching cry, prompting him to make a steady retreat. His calm equally shattered, he strode down the hotel hallway away from the distraught woman who had intended on him being the target of her frustration. It was an unsettling reminder of how much he overestimated his understanding of human behavior and his own self-control. Spock stepped further into the elevator as an older couple joined him. He stared implacably ahead drawing on a veil of calm-one he did not feel- over his features, discomfited by their furtive glances as well as their muffled whispers. _"Is that a Vulcan? I can't wait to tell my sister,"_

Relegated to a "_that"_ rather than a _"him"_ bothered him more than he would admit. In moments like these he felt just as alien as he had as a child on his own planet. Tonight, he felt even more so because of his illogical actions.

Sexual liaisons between humans released endorphins that induced relaxation and contentment. Indeed, the human in him that enjoyed such attentions, had welcomed the distraction from more inappropriate thoughts as Christine Chapel provided an outlet to his "problem". The nurse had accused him of having been "in it for himself". Albeit unwisely, he had affirmed her observation.

"_May I remind you that it was you that had offered me relief. It would have been prudent to mention beforehand that you were seeking a partner for oral stimulation and genital penetration._"

Blue eyes were very easily readable. Shock had come first, and then the nurse was overtaken by fury, after which followed the war cry that had inspired his quick exit. Half-truths were not an unfamiliar concept to Vulcans. She was not the woman that he had truly wanted and after his "distraction" was eliminated he could not bring himself to engage in any more sexual activities with her. His stomach soured. She had been correct in her estimation of his behavior.

Spock exited the hotel, got into his vehicle, and made his way home only then drawing in a deep breath of relief as the door to his apartment closed behind him. In no small measure did he share the distaste in his actions as the nurse did. For she had been the only person at the club that had been privy to the professional reasons that brought him there. And, she had been the only one to witness his interaction with the young cadet. He had been sent to _watch_ her. His duty was _only_ to watch her. His duty was to remain in the shadows of the club. His duty had not been to stay after having been detected. To be caught up in her eyes. He should have never touched her skin, held her small bare waist, nor pressed himself against her, and yet as he lay down in bed staring up at the ceiling, he shamelessly used his memory to fuel fantasies of her mounted upon him, running his hands along her long brown thighs. Spock closed his eyes leveling his breathing, reordering his thoughts, slowly calming his body. Meditation was imperative. He would see her tomorrow night. And, they would no longer be strangers.


	2. Chapter 2

Instead of a beverage, Nyota Uhura carried a ginger rinse to soothe her raw throat since stepping into her role yesterday afternoon as a cultural go-between and translator for her two Vulcan companions. From sunup to sun down, the gala activities had been non-stop. This would be the final evening of the three-day event involving diplomats from fifteen federation planets. However ambitious as she was, she would never wish Hesperan thumping cough on her worst enemy, but she had privately danced a jig when her professor told her he was recommending her as replacement for one of the interpreters for the United Federation of Planets. And, oh it was everything she had expected it to be. The Tellarite Embassy was jam packed with at least 100 people speaking in their native tongues, a rhapsody of twangs, clicks, and sing-song intonations that made her linguist senses soar. Colors so vibrant splashed the crowded hall displaying the diversity of federation ethnicities, both regional and planetary. She wanted to be everywhere at once. To slip into languages, was to slip into a new world, a new reality, a new way of thinking. She was hoping to impart even a smidgeon of this to Xon and Votuk.

"One would postulate that the intermingling of your species would advance conformity to certain customs so as to prevent confusion," was Votuk's reply as she tried to explain Earth greeting customs.

"On the whole that is exactly what has happened on the surface. But, humans find joy in their root cultures and we find ways to celebrate them among ourselves and with others. Humans would not favor the word "conformity". Perhaps, adaptability," she offered lightly. "Especially, during formal meetings where passing on information requires unanimity." She curbed the enthusiasm in her voice as much as she could. "Certain rules of engagement signal whether the upcoming encounter is serious or trivial in nature. I don't want to speak on behalf of my species as a whole but, when I feel comfortable with someone and I want them to perceive comfort, I'll usually…uh…display a more personal greeting," Like I had last night. Pawing at one of your countryman. Nyota's cheeks warmed. Her eyes shifted yet again toward the foyer, hoping the crowd would open up a little to see if her mystery Vulcan had arrived.

"Deferential," Xon concluded with a slight nod toward Votuk. "Vulcan's perceive human greeting behaviors quite effusive and subservient, Ms. Uhura. However, the disarming nature of a handshake or smile suggests a perception of threat. I find this display of weakness discrediting,"

Okay, so Xon could be a little on the arrogant side. To get her point across she might actually have to use the "f" word. "A few days before you arrived, I was enthused. When I learned that I would be interpreting for you, no one was around to see me smile. I perceived no threat. A smile comes from a _feeling_. Usually a feeling of appreciation," The two Vulcans shifted uncomfortably, their dark inscrutable eyes suddenly avoiding hers. "A non-terran… an Orion student," teetering on Nyota's endangered best-friend list, "mentioned she had the chance to work with one of the engineers that arrived with your party. I don't personally know her," she lied with a studious effort not to flinch. "I heard she was somewhat effusive in having solved a programming problem with him. Her actions could not be perceived as subservient or deferential," Aggressive. Idiotic. Only a townie from stupidville would smack a Vulcan on the ass.

Judging by their expressions, she'd bet these two were already on the up and up on that lovely flub on protocol. "There are several cross-cultural journals on psychologies and customs of the founding members of the Federation. I can download them to your PADD's for your review tomorrow if you like."

"That would be acceptable." After sharing a look with Xon, Von squared his shoulders slightly. "Ms. Uhura, we were informed that another interpreter serving among Earth's Council would be assigned to us tomorrow. If you are not bound by other obligations, would you perhaps join us on our afternoon tour of the academy grounds if we were to make a request to the Council."

Holy smokes, what this would do for her record! Nyota gave them both a demure nod, instead of the toothy grin threatening to burst free. "That would be acceptable,"

While they discussed their morning itinerary, she allowed her gaze to wander toward the entrance. Quelling her disappointment she examined a bric-a-brac of Tellarite curios within a circular glass enclosure. The intricate carvings inlaid with small jewels were imported from a Tellar museum for display during the festivities. So strange and beautiful.

This morning Gaila had called her a hyprocrite seeing no difference between butt slapping an unsuspecting Vulcan to her groping a willing one. The circumstances were obviously different. First of all, although he was most likely part of the same corps of engineers, her mystery Vulcan was an anomaly. She'd caught him watching her at the Vulcan Embassy last night and, it was not Vulcan vintage, cold and analytic. Two point five million years of female instinct recognized age-old male libido. She'd gone hot and dizzy with that stare. By the time she'd had her wits back to ask Xon and Votuk about him, he'd disappeared. To reappear that same evening at the club. Right in mid-turn on the dance floor she'd gotten a sharp elbow in the ribs, and right in mid-curse, Nyota saw him again. Too damn sexy, was her first thought-or had that comment come out of Gaila's mouth? It didn't matter, since it was she herself that flubbed up. With a Vulcan. Starched shirt, pointed ears, and unwavering logic. Hot and heavy looks aside, she'd been out of her mind to even go after him. She couldn't blame all her actions on an unhealthy mix of Slusho's and Cardassian Sunrises. She had been…drawn to him. Vulcans, in general, were interesting to her. Was she attracted to him for that? His alien-ness. No. Xon and Votuk were good looking and attractive to her on an intellectual level. But, her Vulcan was a mystery. He puzzled her. Love at first sight was ridiculous. The fact that the sentiment had popped up in her head in the first place scared her. A lot. She wanted to see him again. Maybe, to behead the ridiculous sentiment. Maybe in a well lit room and completely sober, it would all be about sex. So be it. But, conversation had to come first. Top of the list in her rule book: never have sex with a stranger.


	3. Chapter 3

Spock estimated he would arrive at the Tellarite Embassy within 8.4 minutes if traffic conditions were to remain the same. A slight crease marred his brow as he examined the luxuriant interior of the hovercraft. Courtesy of the Vulcan Embassy to the son of a visiting dignitary, the driver and the transport were superfluous in that he had his own vehicle, and he was perfectly capable of driving himself. But, his father along with his emissaries had insisted that he arrive at all diplomatic functions as a representative of Vulcan during their visit and he had acquiesced only when his mother had drew him aside to _ask_ him.

As planetary citizens, the goal of all attendees was to extend appreciation over the diversity of cultures and model open acceptance for the benefit of their respective species. Because of the non-military nature of the event, the handful of Star Fleet officers in attendance was tasked to communicate its peacekeeping directives. This was his primary assignment.

Both his choice of Vulcan robes and the multitude of attendees the two previous evenings had provided the anonymity he required to carry out his secondary task of evaluating Nyota Uhura in a discrete fashion.

He had soundly decimated that anonymity last night.

Spock lowered his head onto steepled fingers. He had known of her even before she was a cadet. During his second year as a student he had been assigned to identify citizens of exceptional abilities that Star Fleet might recruit for grooming to become future officers for the then conceived advanced Constitution Class Star Ship. His judgment had been based solely on blocks of data; he had never seen her.

That was the end of his involvement with her until he had seen her in person at an academic debate in Prague. With a Vulcan. Her intelligence was unquestionable, but there was another element that attracted him to her. Her humanity. She shared it gracefully, wore it proudly and by use of language thread the human experience with those of other species to build empathy.

Soon after, he began to follow her progress. First, it was her academic papers and publishings, and then events outside of the professional including her pursuits in an unusual style of expressionist dance and ballet. He attended a show in San Francisco where he knew she would perform. Several officers had. Shocked by the scarcity of her clothing when she first appeared, he watched as she flowed across the floor, her movements poetically graceful then waxing to jarringly elemental, inflaming a slow steady burn in his groin. When the lights came on, he had felt shaken and embarrassed, and then angered by his fellow officers' appreciation of her body.

From that night he was changed. His illogical obsession with her slipped into his dreams and plagued him in the mornings. That was when he started watching her on his own, using questionable means. While on active duty in space he downloaded her performances, read her dissertations, followed the computer files passed between her instructors. It was upon his return to Earth when the Academy requested he resume his identification processes, that he was faced with an ethical problem. She would once again be within his sphere of influence.

There was suspicion that Terra Prime, a militant xenophobic group, had succeeded in their infiltration of Star Fleet Academy. He became part of a special commission within the academy serving as an adjunct to Star Fleet Command to monitor students who might be eligible for the Officer Candidate Program. Ship auto-destruct access codes would not be placed into the hands of pro Terra Prime.

Nyota Uhura and all other cadets were put under greater scrutiny as a precaution. At the time, he had pondered deselecting himself from the project for his partiality in regards to her, and then dismissed it. He was not the only one that was biased toward her infallibility. So were many more of her associates, professors and peers.

Light illuminated the interior of the car just as Spock opened his eyes to see the sweeping bow of the Tellarite Embassy's theatrical entryway.

The hall was already very crowded, enlivened with a vibrancy of colors and style of garb from ethnicities across the alpha and beta quadrants. Vaulted ceilings and a remarkable collection of Tellarite culture encased in towering glass pillars within the center of the room produced a remarkable ambience that Spock had not anticipated.

Humans would perceive this meeting much more spirited than the reserved functionality of the Vulcan and Andorian Embassies from the previous two nights. Of course, he had only made brief appearances each night and based his conclusion on experience than actual verbal input.

Spock detoured to his right furthering himself from the west wing of the hall where his father's delegation stood clustered around him like stones in a rippling pond of activity. He staunched a rise in his heartbeat as he quickly inspected their group scanning for a glimpse of brown skin and shining dark eyes. But, she was not there. If she were to discover him first, the cadet would seek his identity from another; he could not let this happen.

Rather than giving wide berth to an isolated group of Betazoids as others had, he marshaled his emotions and neared them, trading concealment for leverage in order to gain a better vantage point. Yet again, he could not find her. Nor could he locate the two Vulcan's he least wished to see. Perhaps…

A shout from across the room disrupted his search.

The appraising eyes and veiled censure of his people fell upon him, but he kept his attention on the approaching admiral. The man was of average height with a considerable girth that Spock had decided years ago matched his personality. He was pleased to note he had also chosen to wear academy issued formals.

"Spock, at last." He extended his arms with a grin. "You're the one everyone's been waiting on. Who knew Vulcan's could make dramatic entrances,"

"Admiral Ricard." Spock nodded, clasping his hands behind him. The admiral's cheeks were slightly flushed indicating he had already been imbibing. Spock shifted slightly to avoid the admiral's reflexive need to touch. "I do not understand how my entrance could be considered dramatic, sir."

"Well, you're the only Vulcan in Star Fleet, Commander. You stand out. I understand your choice of Vulcan clothing the past two nights, but I've gotta tell you I feel proud seeing you in Star Fleet threads. I certainly hope you stick around longer than the last two nights." He frowned. "I question the need to tone down Star Fleet representation in these types of cultural events, when we have so much to be proud of. Case in point, that young woman over there," The admiral's admiring gaze shifted towards a group nearest the entrance to the hall.

And there she was. His breath caught in his throat. Gone were the provocative clothing of the night before that had so inflamed him. The coral gown that graced her slight frame tonight left only the smooth skin of her shoulders and arms bare to him, but his perfect memory supplied him with all too much of what lay hidden. The inconvenient warmth that so often plagued him upon sight of her threatened to undo him and he quickly shifted his gaze to her companions. Who were none other than Xon and Vokut, the bullies of his childhood. His throat tightened at their proximity to her. It took much of his will to relax his hands.

"Didn't know she was Star Fleet until tonight. Just tonight alone, I've seen her speak 8 federation languages…and she speaks them flawlessly. If I didn't know better I'd swear she was Vulcan."

Spock pulled his gaze back to Ricard. "I had been informed that the secretariat was unable to secure an alternative for their interpreter who had fallen ill. I had not anticipated that they would select one so young,"

"She's got the talent of a diplomat. Her father is a politician who is particularly attuned to non-Terran affairs. Her name's Uhura. Why don't you introduce yourself,"

Spock did not find it necessary to inform the admiral that he was very familiar with Cadet Uhura's background. He formulated a response to decline his suggestion, but the Admiral's gaze shifted beyond his shoulder. "Good evening, Ambassador Sarek."

Spock steadied himself as he turned and greeted his father with a formal nod. "Father,"

"Good evening, Spock. Admiral Ricard, I am pleased to see that our wives are getting reacquainted,"

It was then that Spock noticed his mother conversing with an eclectic group. In spite of his father's presence, amusement spiked in his chest at the small flush on her cheeks. She was in a lively discussion with the Tellarite Ambassador's wife who as a credit to her race in all likelihood was engaging the rest of their party in topics intended to inflame discord. Admiral Ricard's wife, a Bajoran held a cup to her mouth in what Spock decided was a way to hide her own amusement.

"Well, Ambassador, it's either you or I, but I see a few damsel's in distress who may need someone to pass interference,"

Sarek tilted his head. "Admiral, you are referring to the Terran sport known as football, are you not." He raised an eyebrow at his adun'a, recognizing her body language as she made attempts at changing the topic. Truly she was exceptionally delicate in handling the sport of debate with a Tellarite.

"I am. Frankly, I'm surprised you know of the term. The sport died out in the mid-21st century,"

"Learning every aspect of human associations has been the predominating goal in my ambassadorship, Admiral." Sarek placed his hands behind his back.

Ricard bit his cheek against a grin as he noted the similarities between father and son. The way they spoke, what he thought was Spock's signature stance, the eyebrow thing. But, there was tension between them that didn't speak of a close relationship. "Ambassador, over the last two decades your success has bridged many a cultural divide. I speak of course on a purely personal level as well."

Spock listened, but aside from his required responses kept his involvement in the conversation brief. He sensed his father's intention and was not surprised when after a deliberate lull in the conversation the admiral excused himself to accompany his wife.

"Let us find privacy," his father tilted his head meaningfully. Turning slightly, Spock was appalled to see the Betazoids that he'd forgotten were still behind him. He recalled every one of his emotions and thoughts since Ricard's arrival involving lust, possessiveness, amusement, and disdain. If they chose to break with etiquette, these Betazoids would be capable of hearing thoughts from across the Embassy lawn to the streets. His father sought to be out of hearing range. Once out of earshot, as usual he was blunt, his eyes falling to Spock's Star Fleet uniform.

"Spock, your mother had requested that I not "aggravate" you, however, I must express my displeasure at your decision to eschew your culture by not wearing your robes,"

The smallest dip between his brows was the only sign Spock displayed of his annoyance. "It is unfortunate that you view my association with the Federation as forsaking my heritage, father, because I assure you that was not my intent. I merely stand in confirmation of the intergalactic successes that the admiral has commended you on." It was a snide statement, but he did not regret it in the least. No reaction rippled his father's still features and he wondered why he would have expected as much.

"Have you anticipated how your commission may be affected when your return to Vulcan becomes a necessity and how this course of action will impact your commitment to T'Pring,"

"Quite thoroughly, father." He could not explain why his gaze suddenly shifted toward the cadet who was still being monopolized. "The expectations and rules regarding commissioned officers are clearly defined with set parameters. Allowances are made for pursuing personal responsibilities. I see no conflict between service and duty simply because one does not exist." Spock intended to say more to curtail any further intrusive questions, and what he surmised was indeed an attempt to aggravate when with some surprise, he noticed the trio were now looking in his direction. He averted his eyes but not before his father noticed, misunderstanding his motive.

"Xon and Votuk have accompanied me on their apprenticeship. Both have been approved by the Vulcan Council to represent out interests off-world,"

Resentment balled in Spock's stomach, but none of his internal distaste marred his stoic features. "Then I would hope their appointment befits the council's position in diplomacy and application of tolerance. I remember the later as being quite selective,"

His father's voice lowered as Xon, Votuk, and the cadet neared. "They have matured with time, Spock."

No retort could be formulated in his mind as she neared. She was both regal and sensual, her every step mesmerizing him. And, as she looked up at him, the exotic slant of her dark eyes questioning him, Spock had to swallow as the scent of jasmine came with her.

Sorry for the slow updates guys. And, Thank You for being so supportive in your comments! This is my first fanfic ever and the very first time I've ever written anything that's seen the light of day. So, please be gentle but honest about what you think. I'm looking for a beta to kick out all the "oops". Until then, bear with me a bit.


	4. Chapter 4

Nyota was in shock. She was experiencing a temporal shift, an astrophysics phenomenon that included a loss of direction, extreme dizziness, and a severe case of _majununi_, the crazies, - insanity was so much more descriptive in Swahili than Standard.

The uniform, Ambassador Sarek standing at his side looking very much like an older version of him-well, it quite spelled it all out, didn't it. Her mystery Vulcan was none other than the brilliant Commander Spock, science officer, 2nd in command of the Starship Enterprise.

Startlingly handsome, he stood very tall and sedate beside his father, both acknowledging her group with a brief nod. She held her breath, as she sunk into his deep brown eyes. Hawkish eyes that a moment ago had swallowed her up, but were now so cool and remote. She barely noticed Admiral Ricard joining them, or that Xon and Votuk were greeting him. Ambassador Sarek's voice penetrated through her fog.

"Cadet Uhura, you had expressed interest in being introduced to my son. This is Spock,"

Nyota blinked up at Sarek, then greeted his son for the very first time. "I…this is an honor. Sir." Expressed interest? In Vulcan terms, she'd yammered like a pop-star groupie about wanting to meet his son. Whose name was Spock. And Mystery Vulcan.

His voice washed over her, smooth and calm. "It is nice to make your acquaintance as well, Cadet. Admiral Ricard has just mentioned how well utilized your skills have been during the gala,"

Nyota nearly jumped out of her skin when the admiral, who had been right beside her, placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. She could actually feel the Vulcans studiously ignoring it. "What I said was that you represent Star Fleet well and that I'm proud that you're here,"

"Thank you, Admiral," Nyota's tongue felt glued to her palate. It was then that she noticed how closely Xon and Votuk were now watching Spock, whose eyes were locked onto the hand at her shoulder. "I feel very fortunate to be here. I have much to thank Xon and Votuk for," That drew their attention back, and she nearly sighed with relief when the admiral released her. "I've learned so much more about Vulcan customs in the past few days than I had in the five years I've been studying your history,"

"Ms. Uhura, it is we that are indebted to you for clarifying Earth customs that by instructional mediums alone, remained incomprehensible," Xon turned to Sarek. "The cadet has accepted our request to serve as guide tomorrow afternoon at the Academy,"

Part of being a good interpreter was reading body language and to Nyota's practiced eye Spock was looking particularly rigid around the shoulders as he took in that information.

"There are only three more days left to your summer vacation, cadet. It would be prudent not to over tax yourself before sessions begin."

"I…thank you for your concern, Commander, but I am well rested." Nyota stuttered, confused by the sudden ripple of something that passed between the Vulcans. Even the admiral looked a little stunned.

Ambassador Sarek folded his arms, tucking his hands within the arms of his robe. "In that you are a second year student, I surmise your five year study of our culture has been under your own impetus. I find this commendable, cadet. I shall have my assistant forward you literature from my personal library, particularly selections my wife has found beneficial during her acclimation to Vulcan society,"

Before she could thank him, a Tellarite delegate who greeted him with a slight snort interrupted him. Snout nose and with tusks, Tellarites looked a lot like boars. Xon and Votuk were soon drawn in conversation with him and an older Vulcan. Nyota's throat went dry when she peeked up at Spock to find him looking down at her, his glittering gaze sweeping over her face.

"Well, now that you've met the Commander, maybe you two can get together," the admiral suggested. "Spock, I think up 'til now you've been short on people to talk to in your own language. You'll both get something out of the experience. She'd be great for you,"

Nyota clamped her mouth shut against the urge to laugh. The erotic dream she had last night would back that statement up.

Interlinking her fingers in front of her, she hung back giving Spock all the time in the world to think up a response. But, it was plain that he was drawing a blank. So, she threw him a lifeline. Sort of.

"Commander Spock, I've had the pleasure of your mother's company the past two days. She's been very gracious in offering me recipes in Vulcan cuisine. Ambassador Sarek has just offered me literature. Perhaps, you and I can discuss _current_ events," Her eyes sparkled with humor.

He bowed his head slightly and she felt the urge to ruffle the perfect set of his hair. "Information on current events is readily available via electronic media. I doubt I can add much more to what is already reported."

"I'm sure there is much you can expound on," she arched an eyebrow. "Maybe clear up any misunderstandings. Because there are honestly a lot of things beyond my comprehension,"

Admiral Ricard volleyed back to Spock. "You see. She needs you, too. It'll be edifying for the both of you,"

"Unlike Earth, Vulcan reports are presented at face value with no dramatization." Spock answered, obviously still not getting it.

Nyota pursed her lips. "Face value, huh? We are all the more lucky for that," Going for the gullet, she added a persuasive lilt in her voice. "But getting it first hand from a Vulcan would be such a personal _touch_." His eyes went dark. Aha. Much better.

They stared at one another, until the admiral cleared his throat. "Well, I guess I'll leave you guys to it. Enjoy yourselves."

At that point both she and Spock stared at the admiral's back as he excused himself from Sarek as well.

She made a valiant effort to tame her features as she fell into the unnerving intensity of Spock's dark eyes again. They were still too close to the others to speak freely. "I hear you work at the Academy? Are you teaching?"

"Although my office is located within the science department, I have been assigned to work in an administrative capacity for the time being," he responded in Vulcan.

"Really? I have a few science courses and I am surprised we had not crossed paths there. It is a wonder that it has taken this long to meet you." Having switched from Standard to Vulcan, a very polite language spoken occasionally in the passive voice. Very handy, when you were lying through your teeth. Of course, Vulcan's never lie. She couldn't put a finger on it but she got the feeling he was being evasive.

"Indeed,"

Seeing that they were relatively alone, and completely forgetting she was ogling a ranking officer, she took her fill of the severe lines of his face, the appealing slant of his Vulcan eyebrows that made her fingers itch to trace, ending her tour on his wonderfully shaped lips. She'd been so close to tasting them last night. He knew how to kiss, he probably did it well, she was sure of it. He made a sound in his throat snapping her back from thoughts of other things he did well. But, instead of the censure she expected, Spock was apparently making his own exploration. His eyes glided over her bare shoulders, and the shiver that had been lying in wait shot down her spine. Her neck and tummy were covered but suddenly she felt just as bare as she had been last night. Only when his eyes returned back to hers did she remember to breath.

"Although, we had not formally met, I have been aware of your academic success, Cadet. I have seen you in the science building before, however, each time you were particularly engrossed in your work. Your instructor has commented that you keep your "nose to the grind".

_Though we have not formally met_? Wasn't that the truth. "My talent lies in linguistics. Keeping my nose to the grind is the only way I'm going to score high in Quantum Warp Theory. Tell me how something works, I can fix it. Theorizing detector variance and wave duality takes a little more effort." Gods, he was handsome. And, brilliant. And, sexy. She bit her lower lip.

He stepped closer, and it took all her might not to gravitate closer. "Yet, as your advanced grades suggests, it is not beyond your capabilities. I admire your dedication, Cadet Uhura. As the admiral indicated, Star Fleet is well served,"

Compliments rarely turned her head, but coming from his cultured throat, the deep tenor of his voice having lowered considerably, it had a deleterious effect. His warmth, his height as he looked silently down at her, the restrained masculinity that had propelled her to him last night. It set her heart racing. More horrifying was the sudden twitch of her sex.

"I strive to be the best," She curled her nails into her palm. "Your admiration is most welcome, Commander," His mouth turned down ever so slightly. Oh, god. What did she just say! "What I mean to say is thank you,"

Seconds ticked by while they stared at one another again, seemingly forgetting that they were standing in a crowded room. She was confused, aroused, and shocked. She was flirting, and enjoying it way too much. Her brain refused to connect the Vulcan from last night, to the Commander that he was. And, he really wasn't helping matters was he? She pulled free from his gaze looking instead at the insignia on his chest. She licked her lips, ignoring the heat on her cheeks. "I was the one that started this," she said in Klingon. "I regret having met you under such conditions. My actions were inappropriate,"

"I see nothing for you to apologize for, cadet." She went weak in the knees at his switch to her own native language. When did he have the time to learn Swahili?

"Your off-duty activities are your own. You did not know who I was. I would hope you would accept my apologies in the manner in which I… touched you." She looked up as he paused with a perceptible part to his lips, that he quickly closed. He hadn't intended on saying that last part. He hadn't intended on reminding her. But, she was reminded alright. Of how skimpy Gaila's clothes had been on her, and how from time to time she'd felt his eyes on her as she danced. How she'd accidentally bumped into him on her way to get a closer look at him, and how his warm hands had flexed at her bare waistline. Not normally pushy or aggressive in the sexual sense, she had acted out of her instant attraction to him and when she'd looked up into the severe lines of his face, she had gone supernova with a lust so unlike what she'd ever felt before. And, the hardness that had brushed her abdomen…her red lacquered nails had sunk into his hard chest. But, then he'd firmly set her from him. The flash of awareness in his eyes now indicated that he guessed her thoughts. Her thoughts being on his erection. Her breath caught in her throat as his eyes shifted discretely toward the others than back at her. Intimate. It had been an intimate look. The desire coiling low in her stomach was a warning sign. Girl, you're in public. He's a COMMANDER! Her breath came out in a rush.

"Well, I should probably circulate, Commander,"

Spock deliberately set his back to the others, to prevent their conversation from being overheard. "I believe that would be unwise." The slight pheromones scenting the air from her fired a shock of inappropriate sensations in his lower body. His heart rate rose 13% prompting Spock to quickly assess the situation before him. His lust for her was extremely distracting.

Her brow furrowed slightly. "What would be unwise?"

"Votuk and Xon are conversing in Standard with the Andorians. I do not believe they are currently in need of an interpreter. As you are temporarily available, I suggest we tour the gardens. I've been told the Tellarian foliage is in full bloom." Although, he could control his biological reactions, he was unsure of Cadet Uhura's understanding of Vulcan olfactory sensitivity. Logic was a mechanism to subdue the more base of Vulcan tendencies, but evolution had yet to remove the inconveniences of those sensory glands that lent itself to barbarism. Others had joined his father's group, and he noticed his mother angling her shoulders as she attempted to conclude her conversation with the Tellarite and a Ferengi that had joined them. Only two species in the immediate vicinity would soon recognize the chemical variations that would expose the cadet. Vulcan and Betazoid.

She looked askance as if to find an escape. "But, I'm sure I'm needed somewhere,"

His urgency hardened each syllable. "Cadet, I insist."

Her eyes widened in surprise. Seeing her resistance, he glanced at his father, Xon, and Votuk as they conversed. "You are emitting very recognizable signals that others will become aware of in 5.6 seconds. I suggest you accompany me,"

Her eyes rounded with comprehension before she turned on her heel with surprising speed, leaving him slightly stunned. He glanced over his shoulder before he set off, lengthening his stride to catch up. Amanda Grayson raised both brows at seeing her only son disappearing into the crowd. On the heels of the beautiful interpreter no less. She returned her attention back to her husband then caught herself as he frowned down at her. "Wife, what amuses you?"

What the hell, she was on Earth. She tilted her head at him, widening her smile. "Nothing, adun. I'm just glad were here. I almost forgot I had facial muscles,"

**Thank you kendrat199 for the eagle eye. I was a little loopy last night and forgot to run spell check. Comments definitely spur me on! I hope everyone is having as much fun reading as I am writing. **


	5. Chapter 5

An arched entryway led to the security of the gardens where he found the cadet pacing at the edge of the grove. Her gown billowed around her, and with the full moon upon her, she was a vision to behold. He drew in a deep breath. A mistake in that he breathed her in. Just as it was last night, her desire was intoxicating.

He closed his eyes briefly, reigning in the burgeoning want that flared within him. He suspected she was not as deeply disturbed by her reaction than she was by the notion that he knew of it. He tried to deny the emotion of elation that this woman held the same attraction for him as he held for her. But triumph continued to drum in his veins and swell in his chest.

Her long hair fell over her shoulders as she continued to pace with her hands on her cheeks. "Cadet, I will leave so that you can take this time to collect yourself,"

More importantly, it would allow _him_ to collect himself. As he turned to leave, she grabbed his hand. Her flesh to his. She gasped, and he instantly pulled away. Not having anticipated the contact he had not put his mental shield in place. As a result, he had projected his state of arousal, and in the process amplified her own.

Shaken by the lust that had looped between them in that brief touch, he stared at the ground. It was necessary for her to formulate a response. At the moment, he was unable to.

She folded her arms around her slight form. "I don't understand what's come over me. I'm normally more in control."

Frustration and the same need he struggled with clouded her expressive eyes. He should look away. His hand twitched at his side. "I am a touch telepath. I suspect last night, as well as now, I may have through transference inadvertently added more to your…condition,"

"I really doubt that. I was feeling pretty frisky before you touched me." She bit her lip, "Sorry."

He began to feel uncomfortable as she stared at him silently.

"Inadvertently? Are you sure?" She sighed. "Let me rephrase this. Did you touch me knowing that I would feel some of what you were feeling? I'm good at catching fibs. And, don't be evasive," she warned.

"Vulcan's do not "fib", cadet."

"Dandy," she raised an eyebrow at his silence. "What about procrastinating?" she raised a warning finger. "That was rhetorical,"

"Yes,"

She raised an index from both hands, a human gesture he'd seen his mother use when seeking clarity. "Are you agreeing that that was a rhetorical question, or are you saying yes to my original question?"

"I am confirming your original question,"

Her mouth tilted in a becoming smile, "So you're admitting you wanted to turn me on. Rev up the motors. Communicate your sexual interest."

If Spock were prone to sighing, he would have done so now. "I believe that I have already indicated this,"

He was not in the position to explain that his interest in her was more than sexual. He had been privy to every one of her essays, dissertations, grades, videos of her expertise in several forms of martial arts. He had monitored her interactions in social settings and appreciated the ease in which she conducted herself with her superiors. Yes, he wanted her. More than any woman he had ever known. He could not tell her this. His impetuous encounter with Christine Chapel was motivated by his illogical attempt to relieve himself of his frustrated desire for her. He could not tell her this either. Instead, he stared into the slant of her liquid brown eyes, and longed.

"What do you propose we do about it?"

He sucked in a breath, feeling himself pulse as she stepped closer. The physical manifestation currently straining against his clothing as he considered her sensual question was proof that his logic was compromised. Her own desire was palpable and he wanted nothing more than to pull her hips hard against his. To lower her to the ground... The ferocity of his desire to mate with her was alarming. He must stay in control.

"Nothing,"

Nyota came to a full stop with barely a foot between them. "Nothing?" she questioned, dumbly. He had not moved, but his expression put her a mile away from him. She must have missed something. A gap in their discussion, perhaps, that her sexually charged brain had not yet processed. He was Vulcan. She hardly expected to be dragged off to the nearest hotel. But, maybe just a little touch. Necking under the stars. That transference thing was on turbo charge.

"I don't get it. You want me, and I want you. You and I are barely in the same professional sphere to overstep regulation, nor am I under your direct command," She dropped her eyes to the impressive length of his arousal. Her own wetness between her legs was driving her crazy. "We both have the equipment,"

His dark gaze turned predatory and she thought of the consequences of jumping him among the Tellarian bushes and begonias.

She could see him gathering his wits back and as if sensing the cave woman antics rattling around in her brain he took a step back. She wasn't an aggressive woman for heaven's sake. Slow down, Nyota. Don't blow it.

"Given the accelerated track of your academic accomplishments and your instructors' goals to challenge you further, you will be assigned to ever increasing demands. Engaging in non-academic activities would impact your studies."

Placing his hands behind him, he lowered his eyes from hers for a full minute. When he looked up again, they were unreadable. "Therefore, Cadet Uhura, I must insist that you consider your career and forgo unproductive interactions."

She wanted to interact with him alright. Right now. Frequently. On the ground. In the begonias.

Note to self. He used the plural. Activitie_s_. Interaction_s_. Theirs would not be a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Commander Spock was thinking about interacting with her several times. But, right now he looked resolute in doing nothing, looking as if were she to argue, he had one hundred responses to pitch back at her.

"You're right of course," Nyota tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, missing the brief flicker in his eyes. When exactly had she decided that the wham-bam scenario wasn't enough for her? This was _lust_-at-first-sight. One that had practically developed overnight no less.

But, no, that wasn't true. She'd been completely undone ten minutes ago by the revelation that the Vulcan that had sent her into a crazed longing last night belonged to the brilliant mind that she'd admired since before enrolling in Star Fleet. 

Brilliance, vulnerability, potency. She wanted him for his mind just as much as for his body. And, she was feeling particularly greedy about it.

Nyota narrowed her eyes at him. What did he say about accelerated track?

"But, I'm getting the feeling that you're leaving something out. How did you know the extent of my academic accomplishments?" Her brows drew together. He was suddenly tense around the shoulders. "You mentioned having seen me in the science building. And, having spoken to my instructor. Nose to the grind." She drummed her fingers lightly against her folded arms. "I am not an unobservant person, Commander, to have missed you in the hallways. How long have you been spying on me and why,"

She doubted anyone else aside from a Vulcan and his mother could have seen that tick at his brow.

"I have been following yours and the progress of other advanced students to ensure your placement in the appropriate classes." He paused. "I have been doing this for quite some time."

"That doesn't explain the spying,"

"I was not spying," He looked away, and when he bit his upper lip-very mind-boggling for a Vulcan-Nyota nearly swooned. "I was watching you. You are a beautiful woman,"

Nyota wanted to be in his arms, so much that it ached. "Why don't you show me how beautiful. Aren't you curious to see how we would be?"

She skirted him, watching his remarkable profile as he struggled. Because he was struggling. His chest expanded, his breath releasing unevenly.

"Given that you have agreed to my earlier request, I do not see the relevancy of your question, cadet," He took a step further from her, then squared his shoulders. "Perhaps, I was not clear. I will not repeat my lapse of judgment."

_Evasive maneuver. _ She could actually see the pick and shovel he was driving into the ground between them. She looked down, tapping the toe of one of her coral two-inch heels, and then nodded. "Right."

With the real estate that he had put between them she didn't feel that gnawing hunger to jump his bones. Hardly quiescent, the desire was manageable.

She placed her hands behind her back in an unconscious mimicry of his posture.

"For the record, my career has always taken a higher rung over my personal life. That won't change. However, I am capable of managing my spare time to pursue non-academics." His eyes flashed at her, but in an instant whatever emotion came over him was quickly cloaked behind a hardened mask. It was then that she recognized the look for what it was. "No. Not like that. I'm not like that. I meant hanging out with friends. I also dance for local productions. In fact, I have a show coming up in two days at the Regency. You should come and watch,"

He gave her a very different look and for a moment she wondered whether she should press her cause.

"You're sending mixed signals, Commander," she laughed. "If you look at me like that I'll think you've changed your mind,"

The muted lighting in the garden did not conceal the slight creep of olive to the tips of his ears. He blinked hard. "I apologize. I will refrain from looking upon your person in any way other than what is professional,"

Upon your person? Wordiness, rushed sentences, all pointed to nervousness. Gods, how the hell was she going to keep her hands off of him? Actually, she hadn't really agreed that she would. She'd agreed that misusing time was unproductive to her studies. Well, that wasn't really a problem. Tonight might be forfeit, but she would do everything in her power to pick up the pace of what would eventually happen. If there was one thing her father taught her, it was that with the right motivating factor a person could be persuaded out of a "no" to a "yes".

Laughter from across the hedges alerted Spock that they would soon be discovered. "We must not linger here any longer. Have you made accommodations for transport back to your dormitory? I will explain your absence to the others," he added firmly as she made to complain. She looked skyward as if exasperated, but he was relieved that she understood. He would also not be returning to his father's group, instead relaying both his and Nyota's absence to their Tellarite host.

"What exactly are you going to tell them?"

"That you had taken ill and required bed rest,"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I've got a campus tour tomorrow, remember? With Xon and Votuk,"

Spock looked away. An illness would have been an ideal excuse to prevent the tour. That he thought of short-changing her from that experience for selfish reasons shamed him.

"Okay, so plan B," She folded her arms and paced, looking at him with an expression he could not interpret. "Tell them I had an emergency. That I gave you no details. Of course, it'll look awful that you didn't offer me a ride in my state of distress." She raised her brows at his skepticism. "What? This is my career we're talking about. Having an officer drive me home gives me the credibility of not looking like a complete flake. Be a little gallant, Spock,"

He should redress her for the use of his name and command her to address him properly.

"Follow the path further into the gardens to the stepping stones, where you will find a manned security gate which will give you access outside to the driveway. I will arrange transport to bring you home,"

As the daughter of a politician and a student of Vulcan etiquette, Nyota Uhura was proficient in hiding her emotions well, but Spock had studied her for years and felt a measure of satisfaction in besting her. She was not happy that he had thwarted her plans of seducing him. He knew her too well. Language was a tool that she wielded with precision, and her wording of her agreement earlier left room for misdirection. However, he could not always anticipate her actions, such as the smile tilting her lips. Elegantly sloping to a determined chin, her face was one that spoke of assured femininity and resilience. He began to doubt his "win".

"That will do just fine," she looked toward the hall then back at him. "I left my stole at coat check. If you would bring it out to me, that would be great. I'll have the driver wait,"

Spock hesitated at her widening smile and marveled at the effect it had on him. Before tonight his understanding of the ease of being with her was anecdotal. This was no longer the case. She was no longer a far off figure of his admiration. She was a passionate woman whose attention was directed toward him and only he himself stood in the way of fulfillment.

"I will be there in 7.9 minutes,"

Seven point nine minutes later, Spock stood alone at the curved driveway of the Embassy staring at the back of his government appointed hovercar that had pulled away from the curb 20 seconds before he reached it. In his hands was a coral colored stole, its filmy material slipping along his fingers tantalizing him as with each fold he released her fragrance. Nyota Uhura had waited approximately 7.5 minutes.

When I posted the first chapter to this story I had the beginning, middle, and ending of the entire story (loosely written). I figured I'd finally polish up a story darnit if I committed myself to posting. It's been slow going mainly because the story is sort of driving me in directions I hadn't anticipated. So, yeah. Rewrites. So, please hang in there with me and yet again, thank you for being the coolest folks everrrr. Trekkies Rule!


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